bakerstreet | with you at your l o w e s t

with you at your l o w e s t

with you at your lowest
a shipping meme

There are undoubtedly moments in our lives that define us, no matter how crystal clear or hazy or memories of those times are. In the case of hazy recollections, it's more likely than you'd think. How strange it its that one inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things, event can change the course you take...not always so seriously or dramatically, of course. You can't remember why you don't like soup; in actuality, you burned your tongue badly on chicken soup at one point, long ago. You'd forgotten, but your mind and body didn't. More weighty traumas that you've unknowingly pushed back can work in much the same way. You shy away from using scissors as you feel a shiver run down your spine, not necessarily as you remember blood gushing from toddler-sized fingers when you played with the big-kid scissors and cut yourself. Still, there is a connection and it keeps you "safe" through past experience. The consciousness is amazing in that way, constantly making associations that, for better or worse, shape how we view the world around us, though we may not always recall what brought us those views.

In this meme, however, there's no way this particular association - a special person, being around them, and your happiness - can go unnoticed, and you know the exact cause. In fact, you can track down the exact moment: this person came to you when you were low, perhaps even at your lowest. Like some guardian angel, they showed you kindness, they turned your world right side up again, they gave you a helping hand, or they granted you your life when they could have taken it. Perhaps it was something as simple as not treating you like trash. At that particular time, what they did meant everything. Whether you see your response to this as a welling up of true love or merely you owing them a debt, what you feel towards them cannot be measured. Even if you're usually as warm as a giant block of ice with a black heart, you have feelings towards them you can't quite understand. If you're emotional at the best of times, you'll most likely be completely overcome. Whatever the case may be, what you know for certain is that you want to stay with this and feel that lightness in your heart.

Depending on what other associations you've made and how you've figured the world works for you, this desire could lead to actions going smoothly or terribly, terribly wrong and creepy.

( how to play )

Comment with your character and preferences. You might also want to mention which "side of the equation" you'd like to play and what tone you're looking for in the thread. Any other info is good, too.
Reply to others.
RNG.

( prompts )

Known: They've been there for you just about forever.
First Meeting: You just met them, but they've made such an impression on you that it doesn't matter.
Rescue:The danger is closing in, until someone steps in and saves your hide. Your hero!
Healing: Bruised, beaten, and injured, you can't take care of yourself, despite your attempts. You'd be left to rot if they didn't come along.
Just a Bad Day: There was no huge tragedy. You just had an awful day, and a little distraction makes all the difference.
Broken: Inside or outside, you're a mess. It seems as if there's no fixing you, but they're going to try.
Unprecedented Kindness: Before, no one has ever been nice to you. No one. Their attention is a change of pace.
The Way You Look: After seeing nothing but monsters or murder, a little beauty is to be appreciation.
Tears: "Don't cry," they said, and you're surprised how much their wiping away your tears affected you.
Grumpy: Putting up your walls and your defenses of cruelty didn't run them away. For some reason, this endears them to you even more.
A Simple Smile: Sometimes, a smile is all it takes to bring a ray of light into the darkness.
Gave Me Hope: You're jaded and they're not. Their optimism or even their continued existence perks up your spirit just a bit, enough to continue on.
Shattered Heart: They're helping you get over a romantic betrayal, platonic at at first. But then...
Mercy: They could have, and should have, ended your life. They made another call.
Didn't Reject: Despite your appearance, your past, your lifestyle, or your personality...not being the prettiest, they don't turn you away like everyone else has.
Defend: No matter if it's verbally or physically, they're standing up for you.
Give Me a Purpose: Through a need to help them in return, protect them, or make their life better, you've found yourself a purpose you thought you'd never have.
WILD CARD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ whichever side is fine ]

( Info. Feel free to PM me to plot things out. )

((IDK what this became a little 2/3/whatever?))

When Jemma had first found herself in trouble, she'd been sure it would be fine. She wasn't a proficient fighter by any means, wasn't even armed, but she had been sure it would be alright. Someone would come for her, even if logically she knew that there was no time for that. She was darting through side streets and alleyways, pursued by what she could only assume were HYDRA agents. Her comms were dead, and she was so far from the safety of her team with the rendezvous point burned, and the part of her that knew she was a trained spy knew the answer was to go to ground. She first needed to shake her tails, though, and they were just gaining ground on her.

Panic was starting to rise as her pursuers got closer, and when she heard something zipping through the air behind her, she screamed, as startled by it as she was afraid. Curiosity warred with the instinct to protect herself, and the latter won. Jemma dove behind a trash can, pulling into herself. She knew, in her head, that it was pointless to do so. She wasn't hidden at all and if they were going to get to her, she should stand tall and bravely like the SHIELD agent that she was.

Frightened and isolated, Jemma listened to the instinct to hide the best she could, only daring to peer out when she realized that if she was going to be taken, they'd have reached her by now.

[Cross-canon is welcome!]

[He had surprised the guards when he'd asked.

The prospect of a hearing was still well into the future as the New Republic struggled to figure out how, exactly, to deal with a notorious war criminal within the confines of their already fragmented justice system. Were the circumstances reversed--had General Organa been left to the hands of a victorious First Order--the judgment would have been far more swift, no doubt followed by a very public, widely broadcast execution. The waiting irritated him, left him longing for efficient action towards an inevitable outcome. The younger Organa, for all her clout and good intentions, would surely not be able to stand in the way of the vengeance of millions.

For the moment he had nowhere to be, no one to impress. She had seen him at his worst, but for some reason when he awoke around four in the morning (his brain still stubbornly, after all these years, adhering to Rakata Interplanetary Standard Time) he had decided to clean up his appearance for the first time in weeks. After the first shift change he'd demanded a shave and haircut, requesting a shorter trim than he'd grown accustomed to on account of their not being keen on providing him with pomade without a formal request to the commissary. The contrast in the mirror had been startling, as though years had dropped from his face, though his worn, sunken look still told of what he had been through.

He hardly had anything better to do and so had taken to working his way through the second stack of paperwork she'd foisted upon him. When she arrived, he was seated at the side table in his cell, filling the back of a sheet with time and distance calculations while an orchestral concert played on the holo. It was tedious to have to write it all out by hand, but for the moment, he had all the time in the world.]

[It had been a long slew of meetings, court hearings, and diplomatic talks. The General Organa-Solo and the Princess both had their hands full, with barely enough time to eat or to sleep. Leia - the younger one, that was - thought it all to be good preparation for the eventuality that she would have to almost singlehandedly lead the reform to the New Republic in her own time. The irony of it was that a part of the challenge was admittedly very similar.]

[As many would doubt her lineage and the purity of her intentions in her own era - by virtue of her relationship to Darth Vader - they were doubting her now for championing Aldous Hux's possible contributions to the New Republic, despite his war criminal status.]

[She understood their concerns, but she could see that he was a man who could bring so much positive change. He had caused so much destruction, so she wanted to see him create and nurture to understand and to atone for what he'd done. She would've demanded the same of her father, and she hadn't had the chance. She wasn't going to pass it up now that she had it with the former First Order General.]

[It was with aching joints and a pained back that she came to see Aldous that morning, but she hid it all. He didn't need to see her that she slept poorly, and that she was exhausted. What he had to witness was her strength, and the conviction behind her actions.]

[She rolled out her shoulders, working out the kinks before she pressed her thumb to the biometrics at his door, slipping past it as the durasteel slid open.]

Good morning -

[Leia stopped in her tracks. It had been months since she'd seen him so clean-shaven, and his short-cropped hair threw his cheekbones and the green of his eyes into sharp relief.]

Hux.

[He glanced at her as he heard the swoosh of the door, feeling an odd pang in the pit of his stomach as he saw the way she was looking at him. A heat rose to his ears, and he quickly dropped his gaze to the paperwork.]

I'm beginning to wonder whether irrational optimism is endemic among your compatriots. Whoever began these timetables made no reasonable allowance for delays anywhere. [He scoffed softly, turning the page over to a map and pointing out a node he'd penciled in.] Moreover, if you're going to make this a dedicated route, you'll need a refueling station about here. Yes, given these manufacturer's estimates, a heavy hovertruck should theoretically be able to make the trip on one charge, but those are always generous. It's far better to be cautious than to cut it close.

[She realized that she'd been staring, and Leia abruptly snapped out of it. He was blushing - the realization made her feel almost awkward, as though she'd intruded on something private - but this was a good sign. He was regaining his sense of self, and she told herself that she was happy because he was showing progress. That was all.]

[Leia headed towards his desk, easily taking a seat at the chair she'd insisted that the guards put out for her. She couldn't help the snort that escaped her at his dry wit.]

Of course you'd say it as if optimism were a disease. However, the problem here really isn't that - it's the lack of foresight and experience on their part, both of which you have in abundance.

You'll also have to remember that we were in hiding for many years. We didn't always have the luxury of delays, dedicated routes, or refueling stations. [Her smile was wry, but not insulting - in fact, her eyes twinkled with mild humor.] Half of everything was on the fly or nothing.

[She reached over to lay a hand on his arm, looking intently into his eyes.] Thank you, Hux. This is very well thought-out.

You speak as though the logisticians who taught me didn't have to conceal their work from the New Republic for thirty years. [He didn't smile, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone as well.] Then again, we did have some of the best of the Empire.

[The touch of her hand made him bristle, just slightly, in spite of being a gentle gesture. He felt the redness in his ears spread to his cheeks and glanced down at the pages again, flipping them over to regard one that was a draft of instructions for drivers, the margins filled with his jotted remarks. He'd managed to use the holo's remote as a straightedge, demarcating each note in a neat box with connecting arrows worthy of an equipment instruction manual.]

Of course it is. Did you expect less from me?

Yes, and on top of that, they took advantage of the fact that the New Republic didn't want to look. [It was very masterfully done, actually. A combination of both actual stealth and hiding in plain sight, and it was an impressive feat - so much so that the First Order was able to rise up with a fully stocked arsenal, leaving the New Republic was helpless in its wake. It still made Leia furious to think of how the Senate had refused to listen to her older counterpart - but at the moment, that was neither here nor there.]

[She felt the discomfort radiate from him as soon as she touched him, and seeing his face flush made her draw her hand away in a controlled gesture. She didn't want to put him off, and it almost felt as though she were dealing with a feral beast, ready to snarl at her at the slightest misstep.]

[It was just so much easier to express herself in actions - but if he didn't welcome it, she wouldn't force it.]

I expect nothing but the best from you. [Her eyes glimmered.] And not because you're obligated to it - but because it's in your nature to excel.

I have always believed that if you are to do something, you must take care to do it right.

[He traced over one of the lines, darkening it.] What did they say about the other work I completed? Did you tell them it was mine?

[She couldn't help her snort of laughter.] I'd like to dispense that advice to a few people I know. [Three guesses and the first two don't count.]

I did. [Her smile turned sly.] After the Senators in question looked over the plans and decreed them sound and sustainable. They couldn't withdraw their praises then.

[Leia looked rather pleased with herself.]

We'll be able to implement your plans for operations soon enough.

Very good. Better mine than the drivel that I endeavored to correct.

[He looked up at her.] Is there some reason you're here, or do you just have nothing better to do?

[She arched a brow pointedly at him.] I came to visit you, and this is how you treat me? [However, there was no heat behind her words. She leaned back in her chair.]

I see you requested music. I like this piece.

[Leia gave him an amused smile.] I'll be sure to send more over. [Subversive ones that were once outlawed when she was a child.]

Yes, they've expanded my list of permitted channels on account of my good behavior. I still haven't quite earned the right to albums, apparently. I don't know what trouble they expect me to wreak with a datachip.

[He shrugged a shoulder, turning his gaze to the holo.] I do enjoy this one, though his second symphony is more inspired. Or his études, for that matter. Brokaw was far more creative as a pianist than an orchestral composer.

One reward at a time, don't you think? [Leia's eyes flashed with mirth.] They're sweeter that way.

However, since you did a good job on these plans, I'll pick some albums out for you. [There was a hint of mischief in her smile that would be easy to spot if Hux looked closely.] Expect them within the week.

Some people are better hands-on then they are behind the scenes, and the other way around. [Leia looked to the holo as well, letting the music wash over her and soothe at least some of her exhaustion.]

Ensure that they're good. [His tone answered that mischief with a bit of critical suspicion, lest she find it funny to gift him tacky pop music or recorded Republic speeches.

He was silent for a few moments, waiting for the movement to resolve. The audience on the holo broke into applause, and he murmured almost absently, not wanting to seem too invested in his proposition:]

Hersh's 'Victory Suite,' if you could. That's one of my favorites. I used to listen to it prior to starting difficult operations.

You doubt my taste? [Leia quipped in return. She was in a particularly good mood because first of all, he was doing something productive, and second of all, his plans were excellent. The more people she was able to help, the better.]

[She listened to the music along with him, and her eyes softened at his request.]

Of course.

[Leia observed him quietly, without judgement.]

Did you ever attend concerts, Hux?

I doubt you're entirely above amusing yourself at my expense.

[He nodded, meeting her eyes, his words quickening slightly with poorly suppressed enthusiasm.]

Less so during the war but often when I was younger. My father usually purchased a season pass to performances of the Premier Martial Symphony--the orchestra established on Rakata Prime by former members of the Imperial Symphony. We also saw many operas--classics like Queen Nia and Darquesh. Not long after I finished academy I had the opportunity to go with a group beneath falsified identification to the Coruscant Opera, which was amazing. They played The Vindication of Maurel, in spite of the fact that at least to me it's always seemed very pro-imperial.

The last musical performance I saw was one you likely have never heard: the Patriotic Rhapsody by Rhode. It's a beautiful blending of old imperial ballads with some of the Order's anthems. I would think differently of it now, but it was quite uplifting at the time.

And you think torturing you with terrible and cheesy pop music is my style? [Her grin widened. Oh, no. She'll have you listen to emotional operas about freedom, love, and life.]

I didn't know you were such a daredevil - sneaking into Coruscant to watch an opera. [Her smirk was one of amusement.]

[Her gaze grew distant as she remembered the music of Alderaan. Until now, she thought that there was nothing like it.]

I spent many days of my childhood listening to Alderaanian music. Arias like Upon the Midnight Star, or My Lady Love's Song were my favorites - romantic, I know, but those were the ones where I could really feel the passion and emotion behind the music.

Of course I also listened to classics like Chalice and Altar and Herald of the King's Decline. [She quirked a brow.] I've heard that there's a musical called The Agony of Tarkin. I don't plan on watching that anytime soon.

Imperial ballads, you say? [Leia cocked her head to one side.] What about subversive music, like A Song of Tomorrow? That was beautiful, of course. [Her expression and the curve of her lips dared him to disagree.]

Edited 2016-06-06 19:19 (UTC)

[He nodded again as she listed the song titles, giving a soft hum of recognition at the names of the Alderaanian arias before his features all but lit up into a smile.]

I wrote an essay in secondary school about Chalice and Altar. Gorgeous opera. I think it's among the best.

I have in fact seen a holorecording of The Agony of Tarkin. The music is mediocre and as you might imagine, it plays fast and loose with historical facts. You're not missing much.

[He rolled his eyes.] I find it a shame that...inspired music like that was set to lyrics I necessarily disagree with.

[His face was completely transformed when he smiled. Leia was amazed at how his eyes lit up and the worries and the years seemed to smooth away from his brow. It made him seem so much younger - that much more . . . real, somehow. Human.]

Hux . . . [She trailed off, then sighed, returning to the topic at hand.]

It is. [She'd lived her life by it. Self-sacrifice, putting the needs of others before her own . . . it was something she understood very well.]

I've talked face-to-face with Tarkin and I don't need to hear his speeches sung to me, so you're right - I'll pass.

Of course you would. [She let out a little snort, though her eyes were still fixed upon him intently.] Did it move you in any way?

[He tilted his head, choosing his words with care.]

It portrayed universal emotions as well as many great compositions. Grief, joy, hope--were its agenda not so blatant I would be inclined to like it.

At least with something like Borna's Symphony No. 2 I'm not being directly subjected to pleas for freedom and democracy, in spite of the composer's intentions. It's more amenable to diverse interpretations.

[She leaned back in her chair, giving him a look of amusement.]

Washing your hands of all rebellious inclinations, then? I'm not surprised. I'm sure that to enjoy something so pro-Republic would have been considered treasonous.

[The point was he felt something when he heard the music, and that was enough for now.]

Don't be so sanctimonious. I would hardly expect you to be able to admire the songs of your opposition in an unbiased manner, with the discernment of a true connoisseur. I doubt, for instance, that in spite of its similarity to several classics you could much appreciate Hymn to Ascendancy.

[He cleared his throat and sung a snippet of it at a brisk pace, his voice carrying the tune well in spite of the speed.]

Arise, O children of the imperium
History calls for thee!
Now is the hour to take up your arms
And cast out the enemy!

[Leia could only look at him in amused astonishment.]

I'll have you know that on Alderaan, we promoted the appreciation of all art - regardless of its topic, so long as it was art. Just because my inclinations are towards democracy doesn't mean that I couldn't appreciate the artistic value of Imperial art - although that was something of a contradiction in itself, since the Empire was so ready ban such "frivolous, insurgent subjects".

Of course, that only meant that I studied the arts with more ardor.

[She listened to the verse with a wry smile. Of course he'd pick the song that they played to motivate and exhilarate the Imperial troops before battle.]

Well sung. Very moving. Even if the lyrics leave much to be desired.

Edited 2016-07-18 16:56 (UTC)

Well, the uneducated masses are easily moved by anything vaguely inspirational. Regulations have their place.

[He tipped his head, a bit bashful in response to the compliment.]

If only you could hear it sung by a full choir in an orchestral setting. I once had the privilege of speaking at an Empire Day rally that had such a performance, and the crowd--some thirty thousand personnel and civilians--sung along. I was...

[He shook his head, unable to put words to the swell of emotion, the solidarity and conviction that had filled him as he'd stood with the other officers onstage, fist held high. He had practically teared up at the power of it, his pride in that now-vanished regime burning deep within the core of his being.]

[Leia couldn't help her snort.] If you recall, Alderaan was once the seat of the finest education in the galaxy. We were hardly "uneducated".

[For a moment, she remembered her father, Bail - how intelligent and sharp he'd been, and how she looked up to him, hoping to someday follow in his footsteps. She only hoped that he'd be proud now.]

I see.

[It just made her sad - how the Empire had covered up all the injustices they'd done with the veneer of power and glory.]

[She couldn't understand. He'd said as much, expected as much, but as the note of sorrow in her tone highlighted the gulf between them he was abruptly all too aware of it. Once, he'd been united with those thousands--now, he was reduced to trying to express the old patriotism to the one person who couldn't possibly sympathize with his nostalgia. The irony was palpable.

He glanced back at the holo, which was now announcing some sort of contest where viewers could win tickets to a future performance. He sighed, picking up the stack of work before him and handing it to her.]

Here.

[Leia accepted the paperwork graciously, her expression shuttered. How convenient it would have been in the Empire had been kind and good, but no - so many atrocities happened in its wake and she could see only the injustices. Just as he could only see the imperfections of the New Republic.]

Thank you.

[She paused for a moment, then gave him a smile. Earnest and genuine.]

I look forward to reading your work. I'm certain it'll instigate vast improvements in our operations.

I'll see you tomorrow.

[With that, she gave him a nod and walked briskly out the holding cell, intent on making the best of the situation - regardless of their differences.]

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with you at your l o w e s t

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